


Dear Strangers

by chrisgiaconfetti



Category: Yuri!!! on Ice (Anime)
Genre: Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Eventual Otabek Altin/Yuri Plisetsky, Implied/Referenced Self-Harm, Insecure Yuri Plisetsky, Intense, LGBTQ Character, LGBTQ Themes, Other, Self-Acceptance, Self-Harm, Suicide, Suicide Notes, Tags Are Hard, Trans Character, Trans Male Character, Trans Yuri Plisetsky, Yuri's dad left them, Yuri's grandpa isn't a nice guy, Yuri's mom died, Yuribek, Yuriko Plisetsky, im sorry, otayuri - Freeform, this hurt to write
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-04-11
Updated: 2017-04-11
Packaged: 2018-10-17 13:38:57
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,475
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10595115
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/chrisgiaconfetti/pseuds/chrisgiaconfetti
Summary: The suicide note of Yuri Plisetsky as a trans boy.





	

**Author's Note:**

> It's not as long as I'd hoped for it to be, but I did write it by hand in a journal first, so I'm not too displeased. 
> 
> **TRIGGER WARNING**
> 
> This is heavy on the emotions. And it is supposed to be a sort of suicide note. Be careful, read at your own risk. I have an important message at the bottom if you'd like to just read that.
> 
> This will only have the one part, unless I decide to make this a sort of really messed up series full of character's suicide notes. IF I did that, every one would have a purpose and a message, just like this one.
> 
> Anyway, I would enjoy feedback in the form of comments or kudos, and thanks for reading Dear Strangers!

Dear Strangers,

Please, listen. For once, stop telling me to ask for help and realize I have been crying out for a very long time. Shut up with all your hurtful remarks and side comments. Just listen to my story and try to understand what I've gone through.

 

This is a story, so I'll start from the beginning.

 

When I was just a baby. Born a girl named Yuriko Plisetsky. Dressed in pinks and taught how to be feminine. Papa left when I was three and that's when I started feeling that something was wrong. I always thought it was just that I didn't have a dad.

 

For years, I would complain to mama about my petite, delicate body. She told me I should be proud of it. She told me I had the body most girls would kill for. I was left to wonder why I wanted so badly to get out of it.

 

Mama died when I was 11. That left a bigger hole in my heart than I could've ever imagined. The only family I had left was my grandpa, who I wasn't very close with at the time of her passing.

 

When I was 12, my grandpa got me a smartphone for the first time. I'd just started going far distances for skating competitions and grandpa wanted to be able to video chat. He couldn't actually go with me because money was way too tight.

 

On the phone, I made my first social media accounts. I was exposed to more stuff than grandpa probably hoped for.

 

**

 

I didn't know what “LGBT” was until I got on social media. It was this whole new world that had been hidden from me, and suddenly, everything made more sense.

 

LGBT Members were far from accepted in Russia, and also in the figure skating community. But I learned about other places where acceptance was growing. I believed I'd move to one of those places someday.

 

I remember seeing someone say, “I was just born in the wrong body,” and I felt exactly the same. That's what had been so off my entire life. I wasn't supposed to be a girl - I wasn't a girl. And in that moment, I was finally grateful for my small body.

 

No, it wasn't a boy's body, which would've been ideal, but it wasn't a body with curves. I didn't have big breasts hanging off my chest. I didn't have wide birthing hips. And I had a good body for an easy transition that I hoped to someday endure.

 

**

 

When I was 15, before I started my first season in seniors, I talked to my coach. I trusted him more than anyone. I told him about my discovery, I told him about my discomfort growing up. And I asked him if I could be put in the men's seniors instead of women's.

 

He said it would be difficult, but he'd make it happen. I was ecstatic when I was introduced as Yuri Plisetsky at the first competition of the season. 

 

I somehow managed to do all of that behind grandpa's back.

 

I wasn't particularly worried about telling him. Our relationship had grown so much stronger since mama died, and he always told me how much he loved me, how he'd love me forever and unconditionally.

 

That's why I was surprised when, the night he found out, he told me to pack a suitcase and find somewhere to stay for the next week.

 

There wasn't even remorse in his eyes. He was stone cold. After I had packed a bag, he all but picked me up and threw me out of the house. I sat on the street until Mila finally answered the phone and came to pick me up.

 

She brought me to the mall after she picked me up. We got food, and then she told me I could buy men's clothes. She gave me a $500 budget and told me all the stores Viktor seemed to like when they went out together.

 

I got so many looks of disgust. Probably because it looked like I, a “female,” was on a date with Mila, but mostly because I was a “girl” buying sports bras, boxers, and men's clothes. And maybe some of it was all the tiger and leopard print.

 

**

 

Though I was happy, and my teammates were happy about my new, more masculine identity, a lot of people were not happy.

 

People in the smaller parts of town began to recognize me, and they never failed to find a new offensive word to toss my way. Other skaters started picking on me too. Transitioning from female to male was a good way to weed out mean-spirited skaters.

 

All of the comments and names and  _ slurs _ we're getting to be too much. Depression hit full force.

  
  


Some time after depression hit, I managed to fall in love and get a boyfriend. He knew my story full well and loved me all the same. It seemed like that had been getting harder and harder for people to do.

 

His name was Beka.

 

After I had moved in with Mila, the week grandpa said I had to stay away for turned into a month, and then a year, and then he told me never to talk to him again.

 

**

 

The worst of it was when I was 16 at the Grand Prix Finals. I gave my all to my free skate. It was the hardest I've ever tried. I was exhausted when I stepped off the ice. I got so much praise from my team and my coach and other skaters, even some who'd previously been so mean to me.

 

I was so proud of the program, and I was so confident I'd win. I hadn't done poorly on the short program. In fact, I did really well. And then, I saw my total score for the GPF. 232.59. Not bad, considering it was my senior debut and I was still new to being in the men's section, but it was definitely not what I deserved.

 

My coach gave the judges shit  for it. He asked why such a talented kid and amazing performance received such a low score. He didn't have to ask them for me to know the answer why, but what he told me their response was… That was the last straw. Coach told me they said, “A tranny doesn't deserve even so much as a bronze. She was so pretty as Yuriko. It's a shame.”

 

I left after I watched Beka perform. I kissed him goodbye and got a taxi to the hotel. I walked in my room and locked myself in the bathroom. I took the spare razor blade and I fiddled with it for maybe an hour, deciding whether or not I wanted to do it.

 

I did, only deep enough to leave a minor scar, but I still did it. 

 

Before I left, Beka asked me what I was doing, where I was going. I didn't answer him. Maybe I should have.

 

I heard the hotel room door open, and I thought it was just my coach. But then I heard frantic knocking on the door and someone yelling my name.

 

_ Beka… you can't see me like this… _

 

I burst out crying harder than I had been when I was alone. I quickly moved to unlock the door and returned to my seat at the edge of the tub.

 

“Open,” is the only word I could mutter out through choked sobs to let Beka know he could come in. The door flew open and he ran to me. He saw what happened. He took the blade from my trembling fingers and put it in the trash. He walked back with a damp towel and cleaned up my wrists.

 

“Yura…” he said. “please don't hurt yourself. What the judges said, it's not fair. It's not  _ true _ . You deserve so much more than what you're being given. If I could give you the world, believe me, I would.”

 

With a shaky breath, I replied, "Beka, you are my world.” And I wondered what I did to deserve such a wonderful partner.

 

**

 

My relationship with Beka got better after that, but the world got worse. It was more unfair scores, rude comments, ignorance, and more wasted razor blades.

 

I stayed the night at Beka’s yesterday. Before I left this morning, I said goodbye. I didn't know then that it was the last goodbye I'd ever say.

 

I'm sorry, Beka. I am so sorry. You are my everything but there is no light at the end of the tunnel for me. The sun could never be bright enough to block out all the hate, all the hurt.

 

Go, Beka. Give someone else your universe.

 

Dear Strangers,

    Goodbye.

  
This is the end of the life of Yuri Plisetsky.

**Author's Note:**

> Whew, that was hard to write. As I said in the notes at the beginning, there is a message here. For starters, bullying is not, nor is it ever okay. It doesn't matter who it is, just don't knock someone down.  
> Second, I don't know if you noticed, but I mentioned slurs, and the word itself was italicized. **Please do not use slurs. They have really messed me up and I'm sure I'm not the only one.  
> I did use one slur in this story, and that was because I'd heard that word was thrown around to describe a skater - by a judge - in real life. And that, my friends, is most certainly not okay.  
> Aaand lastly, the most important message. Suicide. It's not an option. Not now, not ever. It sucks that sometimes life gets so hard that it seems like it'd be better if it just went away, and maybe it would be for a little. But you'd miss so much. The world has so much more to offer than you get to see when you're young. The world is such a beautiful place, and it's even better with you here.  
> I will always be open to talk. I am salemsie on Tumblr, @chris.giaconfetti on Instagram, and @viktaco on Twitter (sorry I don't know how to hyperlink :/ ) if you ever want to DM me. Please know that I care about you, and I value your presence here on my ao3 page, and I'd value any conversation we may have.  
> Thank you for reading my writing.


End file.
